Appears
by melon collie
Summary: A very strange way of looking at K & K. Devout K & K supporters should approach with caution.


Appears

*smiles* This is my first RK fic, and it may well be my last ^^;; I notice that a majority of RK fandom is peppered with K & K fans, so I think I must mention here that this is not pro-K & K. It has K & K, just not the uh, usual way it's portrayed. So keep your mind open, hope your not offended (if you're a K & K fan), and if you are, try not to flame me. >.<;; And if you're wondering, no, I do not like K & K. *wry smile* Oh, and the title is taken from an Ayumi Hamasaki song that fits this fic pretty well. 

**Appears**

She didn't know what had possessed her to ask him into her home. (A strange man! What will the neighbours think?) Maybe it was because after her father had died, the dojo had lost the old warmth it used to possess. It was almost as though her father's essence had seeped into the dojo and while he was still alive, the dojo was a place she always felt welcome in. But after he died, the essence was slowly seeping away, and the dojo was now a place that pained her every time she entered it alone. It was a solemn reminder that another life that had existed here, one that had been stopped abruptly, without the rest of the world noticing. And now, the world was beginning to forget he had ever existed. It had made her wonder about her own fragile mortality, and when it would be her turn to disappear, leaving nothing behind for the world to remember her by. 

Maybe it was because she had started teaching kendo. She desperately wanted the old days to come back, where the dojo was filled with students practicing kendo, whilst the sensei looked on with a watchful eye. Through kendo, she kept the dwindling flame of her father's existence alive, though just only. Through kendo, she hoped to leave her mark on the world, and hoped that years after she was gone, students of hers would continue practicing the style, and remember a Kamiya-sensei who had taught them the style. Through kendo, she had hoped to uncover once more, that special feeling of warmth, love, and life that she once felt. A feeling she wanted to carefully excavate from the deep bowels of her memory. 

Maybe, she just wanted to be pampered again. She was always spoilt rotten as a child, and she missed having a man around the house. A man who took care of her, protected her, was up preparing breakfast before she was awake, and would watch over her even after she had fallen asleep. 

Maybe it was this mutual pity between the both of them. Pity for him, because he had no function in this age of peace, no home, no attachments, no one, who remembered him as a person, and not hitokiri battousai. Pity for her, because she was all alone, afraid of facing the world, and in need of constant assurance and protection, and a clutch to cling onto desperately to stop herself from collapsing from the exhausting vortex that was Life. 

Maybe each seemed to be able to offer something the other craved. She offered acceptance, and unconditional blind faith towards him. He in turn offered protection, and that 15 seconds of fame for being associated with the strongest swordsman in Japan. 

Or maybe, just maybe, she had felt (or was it hoped?) that deep down, he was just like her. Someone who had lost someone irreplaceable in his life, and was looking for someone to fill the void. Someone who could feel, or even sense, the feeling of empty hollowness that had filled her recently. Someone who would understand the pain of acting a role so different from one's self, in an effort to create some sense of stability, and yet later becoming so immersed one could no longer tell the real from the fake and was condemned to endlessly playing the part one had created for one's self. Someone who was just like her. 

Maybe it was all of the above. She didn't know, and at that time, it didn't matter. He had proven he was one who could protect her, and she had no need to fend for herself anymore. No need to endlessly prove that she was stronger than she really was. To pretend she wasn't hurt when she was bleeding inside. No need to pretend she could cope when she was near breakdown. 

Maybe -- 

Just maybe, they could salvage each other's soul from the never-ending despair. 

**************************

So from then on, they started their life together, and after a while others joined in. 

First the boy, then the delinquent, and the doctor. She never questioned him on why he would want to help them, on why he would so willingly take the boy in. She never questioned his judgement. She just let him keep these secrets to himself. Whether all he wanted to feel was the temporary saticfaction of feeling like he had helped somebody, or he waned to fulfil his foolish pride, or whether he just wanted to find more people willing to give him their adoration, their doubtless comfirmation that he was not a killer. That he was not to blame for whtever that happened in the past. That he was now Kenshin, the peaceful rurouni. 

Whatever his reasons were, she didn't know, and she didn't care. It didn't matter to her. No, it didn't matter to her at all. 

All she did was play her part with blind faith. When Yahiko came into their life, she acted suitably annoyed. When Sanosuke came, fear, anxiety at the prospect of him being hurt during the fight between him and Sano, then a gradual, begrudging acceptance of Sano into their lives. When Megumi appeared, a condescending, sympathetic attitude that occasionally degenerated into typical jealousy between two women over a man. After a while, all the emotions came so perfectly timed, she didn't really have to think about what she was acting. 

She had become the part, whether she wanted to or not. 

Occasionally she wondered if what she was feeling was real, or maybe just another fictional one she had conjured up. But she couldn't find an answer. The line between truth and fiction was so easily crossed, she started to double guess herself. 

But none of them ever noticed. To everyone, he and she were Kenshin and Kaoru, the perfect, star-crossed lovers who were made for each other. Kenshin and Kaoru, who found each other through a twist of fate, and were destined to be together. Kenshin and Kaoru, the ones who were so obviously in love with each other even though they hardly spoke a word about it. 

Occasionally, when she was alone, she'd think about the sweet , sweet irony of it all, and she could taste the bittersweet taste of it. Then she'd laugh softly to herself. A hollow, cold laugh that resonated off the walls of the empty room of her heart. 

**************************

There were setbacks, of course. Kidnappings for one, seemed to be a constant scourge. 

She remembered the one with the other hitokiri. The one that had kidnapped her to force him to kill again. 

She remembered the instant, when she saw that his eyes had changed. She remembered the mind-numbing, spine-chilling fear that she had felt. Then she remembered thinking, at that split second: If he became Hitokiri Batousai again, it will all be over. He will leave her. He will go away. Then this masquerade will all be over. Then a split second later, she became disgusted with what she had just thought. She was horrified by her shallowness, horrified by what she had become. A hypocritical, two-faced person, with lies for a face, and deception for a soul. She had stooped so low as to needing superficial affection from a person she felt nothing for. And in a sick twisted way, she realised that she couldn't let him go away. 

She couldn't let that happen. 

If he went away, that would mean that this masquerade had been absolutely meaningless. If he went away, all the self-hate she had felt, the superficial feelings she had fabricated--- would all be rendered completely, and utterly meaningless. 

She couldn't let that happen. 

How he stopped himself, whether he truly heard what she was screaming, or whether it was his own will, it didn't matter to her. 

Let the play continue. Let it unfold. 

**************************

When he left to go fight Shishio, she wasn't surprised. But then, it didn't prevent her from feeling sad. It was somewhat identical to what she had felt before-- that everything was worthless now, and the curtain had fell. 

Everyone seemed to think they knew exactly what she was upset over, and exactly what she felt. What a laugh. 

They knew nothing. Nothing at all. All they wanted to achieve through comforting her was to firstly, try to convice her to look for him, a task they deemed to tedious for themselves, and secondly, make their own lives seem better by comparison to her sad situation at that time. Once her back was turned, they would start talking about how pitiful she was, and how much she really needed their help. 

It didn't matter what they thought. Let them gossip, let them speculate. She couldn't bother, all she wanted to do was curl up and and do nothing. Think nothing. And just waste her life away. Her life had no purpose anymore. 

Then Megumi came. Somehow, she always felt a strange bond between she and Megumi. Both lost their family and were orphans, both lost, wandering, and badly needing an emotional clutch. 

And yet, what Megumi had felt for him, seemed to be more real, and more strong than anything she could ever feel for him. Watching Megumi battle back the tears, to teach her a lesson-- She felt sorry. Sorry for Megumi. Sorry for herself. Sorry for him. 

Sorry for all of them. Sorry they were all stuck in a stupid, laughable game such as this. 

She had to get him back. For her. For Megumi. 

**************************

After Shishio, there was Enishi, and then finally, life seemed to calm down, and the days passed by peacefully. Occasionally, she and he would go out together, to have a walk, and at the same time continue their act as lovers, and show everyone that they were still the loving couple everyone adored. 

One day, as they were walking, she spotted in the distance, a young man and a girl. Both blushing and smiling bashfully at each other as the boy bought a comb and a hairpin and then helped the girl comb her hair before putting it on her. She couldn't help but stare at them, as if they had something she lacked. Something that she wanted. Something she craved more than anything else in the world. 

He stopped, and noticed her staring off into the distance. "Yes?" He asked. 

"Hey Kenshin... you never bought me a hairpin, did you?" She asked, smiling softly, as if she had finally understood something that had eluded her for a while. 

He paused. "Iie... but you don't wear hairpins." 

"Fine, a ribbon then. And a comb. You never bought me a ribbon or a comb." 

He smiled patiently. "Do you want a ribbon and a comb? We could go buy one now." 

"Hai... I'd like that, very much. Arigatou." 

They walked over to the stall and he paid for the two items. 

"Now help me comb my hair and then tie the ribbon on it." She told him, smiling faintly as she let down her hair. 

He smiled that condescending, patient smile once more, then took the comb and began combing through her long black hair. But his hand slipped half-way, and he dropped the comb. And it fell to the ground, breaking neatly in two. 

For some inexplicable reason, she started to cry. He looked uneasy and whilst consoling her, he added, "I'll buy you a new one, please don't cry. It's okay, it's all my fault..." 

But it didn't matter to her. She wanted only one comb, and that was the one now lying on the floor broken in two. 

She started to cry harder, as if the entire meaning of her life had rested in one little comb. 

**************************

They got married, as everyone had expected. But everything was a superficial affair. Hollow touches, empty embraces, and emotionless kisses. When you boiled down to it, they were just two empty souls merely passing through each others bodies. She sometimes stopped to wonder, if he meant anything more to her now than before, but the truth was, she didn't know. Before, they were two strangers, putting up an act for others. 

Now, they were two friends, putting up an act for others. 

Whichever was worse, she didn't really know. He treated her like she was a friend, a normal friend he didn't really want, but needed around anyway. He treated her with a patient, condescending attitude, like she was a fragile little thing who couldn't do anything herself, while he busied himself doing everything. After Kenji was born, things only worsened. They snapped at each other, over little things that never bothered them before, but did now. But no matter how bad the looks they gave each other, or the words they said to each other were at home, when they went out, as if in silent agreement, they morphed into Kenshin and Kaoru: the Perfect Couple. 

Occasionally, he would wake up at night, having a nightmare, about Shishio, Enishi, or many other figures fromthe past. She would then hold him and softly tell him that it was all right, that he was no longer Hitokiri Battousai, that he was Kenshin the Rurouni everyone loved. She didn't really know if she was just bluffing him, or bluffing her, or maybe she was just bluffing the both of them. Whatever it was, it eased his paranoia slightly.

Once, at night, she had woken up to find he wasn't there beside her. Feeling slightly alarmed, she stayed awake, waiting for him to return. When he finally did, he merely walked into their room calmly, as if nothing had happened and lay down beside her.

She later found out this happened every other night as well. But she didn't say anything to him, just merely kept mum, and busied herself with Kenji. Only when she finally went out to town alone, as Kenshin had gone elsewhere then, did she find out that recently there had been a spate of attacks on passersby those recent nights. Of course, she thought to herself. Kenshin must be out every night trying to catch the culprit, and he just doesn't want me to worry unnecessarily. 

She was hoping he would tell her what he'd been doing on his own accord, so she dropped hints now and then that she suspected something afoot, but he was impassive as usual, shrugging it off. 

Then one night, she decided to follow him out. Why she did such an asinine thing, she didn't know. Maybe she was just plain curious. Maybe she wanted to confront him by catching him in the act. Or maybe she just wanted to prove to him she could be of use to him, and she wasn't just some damsel in distress for him to rescue everytime. It didn't really matter, then. She just had to see for herself what exactly he was doing. 

She stealthily followed him, as he wound around the streets of Tokyo. But before long she lost him through the mist, and as she wandered around looking for him she suddenly heard the sound of a katana being drawn some distance in front of her. Panicking, her first thought was: 'What will I do without Kenshin here to protect me?' And yet, because of her damnable pride, she dismissd the inane thought and went forward to investigate. As she ran forward, she heard the sickening sound of someone's body hitting the ground as blood splashed through the air-- 

Landing on her clothers and face. Shaking, she looked up, into a pair of eyes. 

The same pair of eyes he had when he had been fighting the other Hitokiri. 

The eyes of Hirokiri Battousai.

It seemed like neither of them moved for a long time. They just stood there, staring at each other, feeling a whole multitude of emotions. Then she smiled at him. 

Steadying her voice, she spoke. "Kenshin, I was looking for you. What are you waiting for? Let's go home, onegai?" 

He replied with stony silence, but he followed her, wordlessly walking beside her. Whilst walking, she mentally reminded herself to not mention anything about what she had just seen. Just ignore it. Ignore it. Everything will be fine if you just ignore it. Everything will just go back to normal. If you just ignore it. 

As they entered their room, she couldn't help but ask, "Hitokiri Battousai never existed right? What I saw never happened. Right?" Her tone rose higher with each question. 

He didn't seem to answer, but she thought, just thought he had replied, "Iie, it was Kenshin the Rurouni who never existed." 

**************************

She woke up yawning. A dream, of course. Nothing but a foolish dream. She looked around her. There was no one in sight. She did her usual morning routine, checking on Kenji and then going for breakfast. There was, of course, no breakfast to be seen, not even a sign that someone had been cooking. That didn't seem to faze her the slightest bit. She continued walking around, calling his name. 

No answer. 

Oddly, she wasn't surprised. She wasn't even alarmed when she saw that all his belongings had gone. She merely prepared something light for her breakfast and went to take a hot bath. 

As she sank down into the warm water, she sighed contentedly. When had she felt so relaxed? She smiled to herself, she couldn't remember. She coulsn't remember when was the last time she had taken the time to enjoy such a long bath. She slowly thought out what she planned to do for the day. Maybe she would start with the laundry. There was tons of laundry to be done-- but then, she couldn't seem to remember how to do it. She hadn't done it in a long time after all. Perhaps she would start with preparing Kenji's lunch then. But... she didn't really learn how to cook properly. She hadn't needed to... 

Just then, she hadn't realise she was doing it, but she was. Perhaps it was because there was so much steam around that had condensed on her face that she didn't realise anything was wrong when she felt water trickling down the side of her face. It was only when she tasted the salty taste of her tears did she realise-- 

She was crying. She smiled to herself. She was crying. Over what? Over who? It didn't matter to her. Suddenly, all the anger, and pain, and despair, and bitterness seem to well up at once. Of course, she couldn't do anything now. She had let him do everything that when he was now gone, she was rendered completely hapless. And all the while she had thought he needed her. She thought he had needed her to be there to endlessly assure him that everything was all right. All this while, she thought so. But in truth, it was the exact opposite. He had done it so that she couldn't live without him. She needed him. She needed him to cook. She needed him to clean. 

She needed him to live. 

It mattered. He mattered. He mattered to her a lot. She couldn't let him go. She just couldn't. 

She cried on, her body racked with sobs. 

And then through the sobs, she heard a voice, a voice that sounded so much like her own-- and yet, wasn't her own. A voice devoid of any emotion. No hope, no pain, no hate, no love, no despair. She heard the voice asking a question. A question you asked, when there was nothing left to say anymore. A question asked when you came to realise that in this big game of Life, you were absolutely nothing. Nothing to everyone. A question you asked when you had stripped bare the despair and hate and bitterness and found absolutely nothing left. 

"Kenshin, how could you do this to me...?" 

_Owari_

**************************

C & C much appreciated. Flames too. ^_^;;; 

Ailin, © Bad Fanfic Productions  
0105 hrs, 7 July Y2K1 


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